Mixed Messages
by MollyCoddles
Summary: When Snape gives Tonks detention for bleeding on his floor, he gives her more than a respite from being bullied by Slytherins. While punching Snargaluffs for pods, harvesting Doxies, and bottling Streeler venom, Tonks learns a lesson about resourcefulness


Disclaimer: No disrespect intended to JKR.

**Prompt**: "I Found a Reason" Cat Power, written for ColourfulBat songfic challenge

**Warning**: This is genfic, not romance

A/N: Written ages ago, so not DH compliant, not that it was canon compliant anyway. ;)

**Summary**: When Snape gives Tonks detention for bleeding on his floor, he gives her more than a respite from being bullied by Slytherins. While punching Snargaluffs for pods, harvesting Doxies, and bottling Streeler venom, Tonks learns a lesson about resourcefulness and determination.

_-- I Found a Reason, Cat Power_

_Oh I do believe  
In all the things you see  
What comes is better  
Than what came before_

_And you better come come  
come come to me  
Better come come come  
come come to me  
Better run run run  
run run to me  
Better come_

_Oh I do believe  
In all the things you see  
What comes is better  
Than what came before_

_And you better  
run run run run to me  
Better run run run  
run to me  
Better come come come  
come come to me  
Better run_

_**Mixed Messages**_

Nymphadora Tonks huddled in the corner of a dark, empty classroom. "You'd better run," a student with a green and silver crest taunted. "Run, you little half-blood freak, run."

"What is the meaning of this?" The icy voice of the Potions Master froze the room as effectively as a Dementor.

"I found this student out of bounds, sir," the Slytherin prefect announced.

Severus Snape looked down his long nose. "That will do. You are dismissed." He watched the older student leave before turning back to the quivering second year Hufflepuff still crouched on the floor. He folded his arms. "Stand up."

Tonks dragged herself to her feet.

"Why are you bleeding?" he demanded.

She daubbed gingerly at her nose with her sleeve. "I'm a half-blood freak," she said dully. "They hit me to see if my blood turns colours like my hair."

His lips tightened and he flicked his wand at her face. "Episkey."

She startled and touched her nose. "Thank you, sir," she muttered.

"Detention," he snapped, waving her toward the door in curt dismissal. "After every class for two months. For bleeding on my floor."

"Yes, sir," she answered, darting out into the corridor. She felt his eyes boring into her back as she scurried down the hall.

-----------------------------

After her next Potions class, she stayed at her desk, jostled by students filing past her. _At least they won't be able to hex me in the halls today_, she thought dully.

When they'd gone, she approached Snape's desk.

"Today you'll be collecting Snargaluff Pods. Gloves and goggles are recommended." He indicated a dead-looking tree stump in the corner.

"But… I don't know how, sir," she said, biting her lip.

With a deep huff of irritation, he stood and stalked to the stump. As the vine-like tendrils snaked out, he swiftly punched the stump to render it unconscious and retrieved a pod. Raising a brow at her pointedly, he dropped the pod back in the hole and waited for the Snargaluff to sulkily draw in its vines.

"Proceed."

She took a deep breath as she approached the stump and doubled up her fist.

"No," he interrupted. "Don't draw back so far, and don't tuck your thumb in."

She took another step forward, and the vines slithered out. Panicking, she let her fist fly. It didn't knock the stump out, but it paused long enough for her to get her arm in the crevice. Then it clamped down on her elbow and its tendrils wound around her ankles and waist, snaking up towards her neck. She struggled and lashed out, managing to land a lucky punch with her left fist. The stump released her and she jerked her arm out. Panting and shaking, she deposited the pod on his desk.

Snape glanced up before turning his attention back to the pile of essays he was marking. "That took you long enough. There are five more pods in there. You may leave when they're all on my desk."

An hour and a half later, scratched, bruised and exhausted, she exited the Potions classroom, dropping the gloves and goggles in the supply cupboard on the way out.

_Could've been worse_, she thought grimly, looking in the mirror later, morphing away the bruises. She flexed the fingers of her right fist. Her knuckles were sore. She could use murtlap for it, she knew, but…_It's a good kind of sore_, she decided, remembering the satisfying _thunk_ against the stump.

------------------------

After two weeks, she'd learned to kick, stomp and elbow her way out of every grip the relentless Snargaluffs attempted. Once, she nearly gave in to panic and screamed for help, but in a lucky fluke of instinct, she threw her head back against the trunk and morphed herself smaller, just barely squeezing out of its clutches, snatching the seed pod at the same time. She thought she saw a glimmer of a smile on Professor Snape's face, but it vanished, masked by his usual bored expression.

He didn't look up from his desk again, and when she put the last pod on his desk, he just drawled, "Thursday. Same time."

-------------------

Thursday, detention changed. She learned a new freezing charm to halt leaping toadstools so she could chop them. He'd uttered the spell so quietly when he'd shown her the procedure, she didn't think he'd meant for her to hear, but she surreptitiously imitated what she'd seen him do. He never told her to stop—never even glanced up from the potion he was brewing, in fact—to reprimand or correct her, so she kept trying until she got it. There was a small warm glow in her stomach while she chopped. She would've hummed a happy tune if she thought Snape would've allowed it.

The next week, Snape yanked the top off a glass tank and uttered a stinging hex at the scorpion inside. He gave her a pointed look while he retrieved the dry, discarded skin and the scorpion maintained a wary distance. Dropping the husk carelessly in a jar, he waved her towards a row of glass aquariums and resumed his seat behind his desk.

She mastered the stinging hex quickly enough, and her aim improved gradually so that when she reached the last tank, she only needed two tries to discourage the scuttling creature from getting too close.

She sported a rather pleased smile as she plunked the filled jar on his desk. His eyes barely flickered in acknowledgment at her cheery, "Bye, sir," as she exited the classroom.

Doxy harvesting was on the agenda for her next detention, which took place in an unused and heavily-curtained classroom in the dungeons. Armed with a spray bottle of Doxycide, she slunk through the dim room, whirling to spray at every hint of buzzing. She yelped when a huge blue male darted from behind and scrabbled against her slippery robes, trying to gain purchase on her upper arm with sharp nails and teeth. Uttering a curse, Tonks swung the bottle and hit the Doxy in the temple, sending it to the floor with a _thump_. She swiftly aimed and sprayed it in the face before it could recover. "Dirty little blighter," she grumbled, kicking it towards the collection bucket.

-----------------------

She bottled Streeler venom for her final detention. She watched the giant snails, mesmerized, for quite some time after she finished.

"They're pretty," she said as Snape finally came to investigate what was taking her so long.

"Useful," he corrected.

"Not very," she said glumly. "They don't get anywhere in a hurry, that's for sure."

"Speed and agility are not everything, Miss Tonks." He conjured a stone and set it in a Streeler's path. The oversized snail—blue at the moment—paused, touching the obstacle with its antennae, and finally glided up and over. "Resourcefulness and determination overcome many difficulties."

"Slow and steady win the race?" she quipped, raising a sardonic brow.

His eyes narrowed. "No." He watched a green snail stop and find its way around the stone. "Regardless of your surname and your House, you are a Black. I have never met a Black who let anything stand in the way of getting what he or she desired."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Do you use your head for anything other than turning your hair ridiculous colours? In these past two months of detentions, you've learned to fight when necessary, use stealth on occasion, and precision always. Do you comprehend?" He frowned impatiently, waiting for her response.

"So...I can do anything if I work hard enough?" she asked.

"Prima ballerina would be a foolish option."

"I want to be an Auror," she blurted. She'd never told anyone before and cringed a little, anticipating a sneering reaction.

When none came, she glanced up to see the corner of his lips twitch. _A smile?_

"Best plan on many more detentions in the future, then."


End file.
